A Collection of Lily and James
by Queen Nightingale
Summary: Why don't you believe in me," Lily said angrily, James smoothly taking the cigarette out of her hand and inhaling the smoke. J: "Because most of the time I'm just wasting my breath." JPLE Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A COLLECTION OF LILY AND JAMES**

Author: **Queen Nightingale**

Rating: **M (For swearing and sexual content)**

Pairing: **JPLE**

Author's Note: **This will be a three-shot, but if there's enough demand I might make it into a full story. Dedicated to _LikeAVision_, and _FollowThisRhythm_.**

* * *

Call the roller of big cigars,  
The muscular one, and bid him whip  
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.  
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress  
As they are used to wear, and let the boys  
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.  
Let be be the finale of seem.  
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.  
- _The Emperor of Ice-Cream_ by Wallace Stevens

* * *

It started with a bang, just like everything else in her life.

It wasn't a subtle pop, like a heated kernel, but more along the lines of a foghorn on a Monday morning. It wasn't a smooth latte, but a bittersweet shot of expresso. Hot, fast, and heart-pounding.

She loved it. It was a whirlwind romance from the beginning, a perfect queasy knees love story combined with a delicate flavouring of tingles. It was the type of story that almost seemed too strange to be true, too bizarre to actually exist.

But exist it did. Because as much as she might have fought it, as much as she might have hated and hated and burned for this one boy, fate always had their hand in the deck of cards that she was playing with. She was destined to lose, just a bit, so that she could take the total win.

Right now, all over the world, hearts are breaking. Some are pounding from sweet, first loves, some are ricocheting from daring, dark romances, and some are simply shattering, one by one, all in a line.

Hers would break. It would shatter into giant shards and bleed onto the floor, tumbling down from her open chest cavity, dripping blood and guts and desire and emotion.

Yes, it would be ugly. Real life is ugly. She wasn't a stunning beauty, he wasn't a devil-may-care model; they were real people, as common as toast and butter. That didn't mean, however, that they couldn't fall in love.

Life isn't worth living without a bit of chaos, a bit of mutiny. She didn't know this – he did. He coloured her world in vibrant shades of red and gold and yellow, and shook her so much that she felt like she was hung upside down by the strings of his fancy. She was scared that one day, he might get bored, and cut her loose. And then she would fall right on her head.

She did fall on her head. And caused large bang, and then the game began.

And it wasn't clear from the start who would win it.

* * *

"Lily?!"

"Lily?"

"Lily, what are you doing here?!"

Rays of sunlight suddenly streamed in between the curtains of the bed, and Lily groaned and shoved her face into the pillow, burying herself in the sweet scent of sleep.

"Go away, Marlene."

"I'm not Marlene, Lily."

"Go away, Emmeline."

"I'm not Emmeline either, Lily."

Lily took note of the distinctly masculine sound of the voice, and frowned into her pillow, then turned onto her back. She gaped when she spotted Potter curiously leaning over her.

"What are you doing in my dormitory?"

"What are you doing in mine? I'm the one who's sleeping, obviously you're misplaced," Lily retorted, her eyes wide, her hands scrabbling to grab her sheet up to cover her thin nightgown, "Potter, what are you doing here?"

"Lily, look around."

She glared at Potter, who looked curiously amused by the situation. Inhaling with irritation, she tossed her flaming frizzy hair over her shoulder and looked around.

Okay, maybe he was right.

The walls of her 'bed' were covered in pictures of half-naked witches, who giggled at her and blew her kisses, making Lily colour in shock. She rubbed her eyes in amazement, and then glanced around the room. It was evidently a boys' dormitory, with clothing strewn everywhere, and Remus Lupin clearly snoring in the bed beside her.

"Why am I here?" Lily said suddenly, her hand lifting up to self-consciously touch her head, Potter chuckling at her misery, turning away from her to amble over to his own bed, "Potter! James!! Why am I here?!"

"I don't know, maybe you should ask yourself that."

Lily thought back to last night, which was a haze of alcohol and dancing. Gryffindor did throw the best Quidditch after-parties. She distinctly remembered talking to Dorcas by the large red couch, and then reaching for her flask of firewhiskey. She didn't remember much after that.

"Oh Lord," Lily said, her voice making Potter turn and smirk and her evident confusion, "I don't remember what happened last night." She chewed her lip, her eyes going up to stare at Potter, "What happened? Why am I here?!"

"I'm at just as much of a loss as you, Lily," Potter replied, smirking evidently (the great brute probably took great pleasure out of her confusion).

"You must know!"

"How would I know?"

"Were you at the party?"

James paused, and stared at Lily, who suddenly smirked as she remembered the events of last night.

"Oh right. You were busy passing out by the beer pong table. Guess the champion chaser can't hold his liquor."

"Says the girl who's currently in my best mate's bed and can't remember the events of last night," James said mockingly, glowering at Lily, who hid a snort at his rising colour, "And I can hold my liquor."

"Okay. Sure. Wait – what?! Best mate's bed?!"

"Yeh, you're in Sirius' bed, Lily," James said, turning around to hide the frown that graced his face, "Welcome to the tick mark club. Guess you'll be number 20."

"20?!" Lily shrieked, jumping out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her, Remus waking up with a loud snort and a grumble, "I am not twenty! I do not sell out like that! I don't even have a hangover!"

"Sure you don't."

"I _don't_, James, how _dare you_!" Lily said angrily, marching towards him, her 5"4 frame comically small compared to his staggering 6"3 as she followed him, wrapped up in her blanket, "I am not tick mark number twenty!"

"I'm busy, Lily, maybe you should go back to _fucking my best friend._"

"I did _not_ fuck Sirius!" Lily exclaimed, tripping over her blanket and nearly into the floor, James' hand reaching out to grab her before she did. She flung off his arm and angrily swung to face him, "I'm not the sort of person who does that! How dare you make that sort of insinuation!"

"How dare I make that sort of _insinuation_," James said girlishly, imitating Lily as he turned from her and rifled through his drawer, sticking his butt practically in her face.

"Oh, grow up," Lily spat at his bent over backside, turning around and stomping back over to Sirius' bed.

"You two both need to grow up, it's fucking eight on Saturday," Remus growled loudly, his voice muffled, the two of them freezing and turning to face the boy, his messy blond hair the only thing peeking out from under his covers, "Either get the _fuck_ out of this room or I'll kick you both out."

James pressed his lips together, and glared at Lily across the room, who was intensely staring at her surroundings.

"Didn't you hear what he said, flower?"

"Oh shut up James, I'm not leaving until I get answers."

Lily calmly walked back over to James' bed, the furthest from the door, and incidentally the one with the most Quidditch pictures plastered all over the walls.

"So you like Quidditch, huh?" she said quietly, gazing up at the wall beside his bed, James watching her intensely.

"Not as much as you like Sirius," he snarled back, glaring daggers at her form. She tensed, but didn't rise to the bait, merely looked at the pictures on the wall.

"Well, it seems interesting. Who's that?" Lily pointed randomly at a rugged-looking Quidditch player who waggled his fingers at her from the poster board.

"Some random guy. Why? You want to fuck him too?!"

"For heaven's _sake_ James I didn't sleep with Sirius! Stop getting your panties into such a twist!"

"OUT!" Remus roared, jumping out of bed and grabbing the back of James' shirt and Lily's nightgown, holding them promptly with his hands and speed-walking towards the door, the two stumbling behind him, "OUT, NOW!"

The door slammed with a bang.

Lily found herself standing, stranded, with a furious James Potter outside his dormitory, the boy glaring daggers at her.

"Okay, this is not my fault," Lily hissed at his enraged expression, her pupils dilating with anger, "Maybe if you weren't such a douche this wouldn't have happened."

"Maybe if you weren't such a common - "

Lily froze, her eyes wide and horrified, at the word about to come out of James' mouth. The boy formed the beginnings of 'who' with his lips, but didn't seem to have the effort to finish the word. He sighed, and his shoulders sank.

"Whatever, Lily."

Her cheeks heated up with indignation, but she didn't bother to talk, merely glared at James and then groaned, putting her hand on her forehead and leaning back dramatically.

"I _hate_ mornings."

"Join the club, cupcake."

* * *

"I want you," she heard James growl softly into her ear, and she arched her back harder against his chest as his fingers danced softly against the bottom of her rib-cage, through her shirt, "You know that, though. I hate you so fucking much but I want you so badly –" she felt his lips dust against her collarbone, his shaggy hair curling around her shoulder "that I could die."

Lily breathed heavier, as James curled his hands around her waist and dragged his reddened lips against her fragile skin.

"Why would you always come back for me if you didn't want me too?" James was murmuring, almost nonsensically, into her skin, and Lily felt frozen, like a statue, pleasure thrumming up and down the veins of her body, "Why do you do these silly things, Lil, if you say that you hate me so much? It doesn't make any sense."

His words cut into her like sharp glass and she could feel herself falling deeper and deeper into his grasp, almost like he was gently stripping her of her self-control.

"I mean –" James' hands tightened around her waist, and Lily inhaled sharply, her head spinning with the intoxication of his touch "- it's like you're scared of me, but you hide it quite well." His lips traced the outlines of constellations on her skin, and she leaned her head back, her red hair trailing down his shoulder as she softly moaned.

His fingers slowly danced up her abdomen, brushing against her ribs until one hand rested dangerously close to the underside of her breast, her heart pounding in and out of her ribcage.

She couldn't help letting out another breathy moan and sinking into his embrace, completely out of control and set on fire by his touch.

His other hand dangerously began to trace up the inclines of her face, and it painted moons and suns and ribbons of light, taking them from the blazing heat surrounding their dance and repainting the world onto her face in bright colours of dalliance and treachery and intrigue, streaming out of his fingers.

A little niggling in her head couldn't help telling her that this was the way that it was always supposed to be, that this was the boy who should have been doing this to her, not the other painted buffoons who blindly groped her during school parties or slobbered on her face.

His finger traced her high cheekbone, slowly, precariously moving towards her lips, and she couldn't help moving her head towards the fingers, until they landed on her soft pout.

She heard James groan underneath her, and she couldn't help deliriously wanting to hear him do it again, and again, and again, and she wanted to so badly pull that noise out of his lips and be the reason why he was singing.

So, without thinking, she opened her mouth slightly, and his fingers gently pushed into her mouth.

She heard him inhale sharply, and she arched her chest forward so that the fingers of his left hand softly stroked the underside of her breast, and so it almost looked like he was performing some strange version of CPR on her heaving body. Her hands tangled even further in his hair, and James moaned again, causing passion to roll in waves over Lily's body.

"Can you fly? Because I can make you soar."

She smirked at his words, and then felt his lips dust across her neck and nearly died from the friction of it all, the two of them waltzing alone outside his dormitory at two in the morning. She dragged her hands up the back of his neck, entangling them into his hair and breathing, in and out, in and out.

"Flying is overrated," she retorted softly, grinding herself into his lower body, her lips softly kissing his fingertips, "I personally prefer running. You might make me soar, but I can make you chase me."

She heard him stifle a soft moan, so she gently trailed her fingers up and down his neck and skull, his body moving in retaliation as if he was just her puppet, and she was his puppet master.

It was intoxicating – the feeling of skin on skin or cloth against skin, and the knowledge of what lay beneath them. The hallway light sparkled against the natural shimmer of their hair, on their bodies, and for a second, just a second, they were covered in sparkles, beautiful transparent jems that coated their bodies.

And then they were truly crystalline.

* * *

They stood there awkwardly for a couple of seconds, minutes after Remus kicked them out, Lily examining a strange brown spot on the bottom of the dormitory door, Potter exhaling dramatically and tousling his hair like he just recovered from early male pattern baldness.

"Can you _stop _that!?" Lily said suddenly, yanking James' hand away from his hair, the boy gaping down at the enraged redhead, "Merlin that's _annoying_!"

James glared at her, and then rolled his eyes.

They stood in silence for another couple of seconds, Lily sinking to her bum and leaning against the wall as they waited outside the dorm room.

James started to tap his fingers, louder and louder, against his thighs, as they both stood and sat, practically motionless, outside the room.

It felt like elephants were tangoing on her temples, and Lily cracked at the seams.

"Stop _it_! Stop it! Stop it!" she suddenly shrieked, thumping her hand dramatically against the red carpet, James startling and turning quickly to look at her, "Can you ever do anything right? Stop _tapping_!"

"Obsessive-compulsive," James muttered, turning away from her and glaring angrily at a spot on the yellow wallpaper across from them.

"Bastard."

"Drama queen."

"I'm _so_ sick of you," Lily said suddenly, her head leaning back to rest against the wall, her eyes trained on the ceiling.

"It's not like I'm having fun here either. Why are you even here?"

"I'm waiting to find out if I indeed, as you so gently put it, _fucked your best friend_."

Lily's eyes watered a bit in humiliation, her teeth gritted, but James' eyes were centred on the wallpaper, and he didn't notice. Sighing, he pulled a lighter out of his pocket and a cigarette. He quickly lit it and inhaled sharply, looking down at Lily, who just looked angrier when he pulled it out.

"What _now_, Lily."

"Those things will _kill_ you, stupid," Lily said, rolling her eyes at him and motioning with her head at the cigarette he dangled between his fingers.

"I think I'll take the risk," James said, blowing smoke out of his nose, his nostrils flaring, "And they're allowed."

"Just because something's allowed doesn't mean it's right."

"Shut up, Miss Perfect, it's not like you've got it all together right now either," James said angrily, turning to face her, "You really shouldn't be dictating propriety."

Lily pressed her lips together in a firm red line, and James rolled his eyes, sliding down the wall to sit next to her, the cigarette smoke wafting up towards the ceiling of the small dormitory hallway. Subconsciously, she felt herself enjoying the outdoorsy smell of the burning tobacco, and she leaned closer towards the cigarette, her eyes focused on it.

"Do you want to try it?"

Lily jumped at James' deep voice, and turned to face him, his hazel eyes disconcertingly close to her own green ones.

"No, of course not," she said primly, turning back to fidget with her hands, "It's not good for me."

"It wasn't good for Beth either," James said deeply, his eyes not giving anything away, focusing intensely on Lily, "But she still smoked."

Lily frowned at him, and the two sat in silence for a while, Lily's eyes occasionally darting up when James casually placed the cigarette against his lips and inhaled softly.

"Oh fuck it, _fine_, why not, if I'm breaking one rule I might as well break them all," Lily said quickly, reaching up and grabbing the cigarette from James' hand, ignoring the tingles that erupted down her fingers when skin brushed skin.

"Don't inhale too much at once," James said warningly, watching her carefully as she eyed up the burning cigarette, "You'll burn your throat."

"You burn my throat," she said, a touch of sadness mixed into the anger, and James' eyes flew wider when her eyes jumped up to meet his. He sighed, and reached for the cigarette.

"Come on Lily, I was just joking about the Beth thing, you don't need to smoke."

"This isn't about Beth," Lily said intensely, pulling her arm out of his reach and staring at the ground, "I want to do this. Of course this isn't about _Beth_, who the fuck is _Beth_?!"

James didn't reply, merely gazed at her from behind his round glasses.

She looked down and then up at him again, almost nervously.

"I can do this, I _want _to."

"Okay."

She paused, lifted the cigarette to her lips, and in one large anticlimactic moment, shoved it away from her face and in front of his.

"Why don't you believe in _me_," Lily said angrily, James smoothly taking the cigarette out of her hand and inhaling the smoke.

"Because most of the time I'm just wasting my breath."

"Fuck it, I _will _do it."

She grabbed it out of his hand and inhaled it in a quick puff, the smoke barely entering her lungs. She still felt a discernable rush of air to her head, and smiled, blowing the smoke out of her lips, James smugly looking down at her.

"I did it."

"I know you did it. _I_ asked you to do it."

James smirked at her, and Lily rolled her eyes.

* * *

She remembered that one night, a month ago, that one night that changed everything and put her heart into a blender, an electric blender with the setting already on 'chop.' It was late, and there was no-one in the hallways, but she was creeping towards _his_ dormitory because she was stupid and impulsive and incredibly horny.

She was wearing her stupid pink bra, the one with the green polka dots on it, and her 'lucky star' underwear, a white large shirt barely covering the edge of her bum. And then she reached the door and stood on her tiptoes and knocked, holding her breath, and then he opened it and the world swung around on its axis when she looked into his eyes, past his round glasses.

He reached down and kissed her, pulling her into the room and casting a muttered 'silencio', his arms around her waist and his fingers entrenched in her soul.

It was wrong. He had a girlfriend.

But if kissing boys and catching butterflies was as easy as drinking milk, the world would be complete. If seesaws and swing-sets came pre-packaged with joyful children and blooming violets, if ordinary people could find their yellow brick roads, maybe something would have turned out differently.

Unfortunately, as is the case with reality, the world doesn't work that way.

They weren't just a boy and a girl, sitting on a swing set holding violets in their chubby childish fingers; they were a boy and girl, tangled in their lust and deviancy, on a self-destructing boulevard of sexuality and desire. There were no yellow brick roads that led to Oz, no magic potions or elixirs that could save them from the chaos known as the present.

Their romance consisted of neon lights and fluorescent signs, layered across a backdrop of foggy, polluted night air. There were no stars to wish on, no perfumes to breathe in, no summer wind to tickle their fancy. There was just a boy, lying on top of a girl, trying to tease her skin off and bury himself somewhere deep within her body.

It was something raw, and poignant, dark and daring, something that simply didn't exist in fairytales or children's books. He wasn't a Prince Charming, and she wasn't the princess – they belonged to nobody except for themselves, and even that possession was ruined by a clamouring of their discontent souls. It wasn't pretty, and it certainly wasn't nice.

It was dirty peacock feathers and squalid dormitories, wet kisses and boys with hollow eyes. It was filthy, decrepit, not what it should have been. There was no inner beauty behind their masks, no saving grace being their cruel insults.

But they _lived_, Merlin did they live, and isn't that all that you need? They breathed passion and disturbia and cracked open Pandora's box, finally exposing hope amid their scandalous bedroom touches. They didn't bother to paint over their life in pastels or flower petals; they weren't soul mates, they weren't fated for each other – but they were real, and all they ever wanted was to be loved.

It didn't work out. Real life never works out the way that it should. One night, when she crept into his dorm and lay beside him on the bed, his fingers gently combing through her red hair, _she_ came in for a visit and she jumped up from beside him and _she _started screaming and he started apologizing and she slipped out the door, unnoticed and forgotten.

That was the way these things went.

(Because he wasn't hers to start with.)

* * *

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

Lily started, her droopy eyes widening and turning her head towards James, who broke the silence, the two of them sitting side by side.

"I'm sorry for the whole mess that happened a while ago."

"That's okay," Lily said, exhaling sharply out of her nostrils, her whole body suddenly tense.

James started fiddling with a loose section of the carpet, his large hands almost giant compared to her slightly shaking, clasped ones, resting in her lap.

"Can we talk about it?"

"I'd rather not," Lily said firmly, her eyes wide, fear darting across them quickly as she stared steadily at the wall across from her, "It's done now."

She heard James visibly sigh beside her, and she tensed even further as she felt him fidgeting.

"Lily, we probably should talk about it at some point - "

"I'd rather not, Potter," she said sharply, James tensing beside her at the use of his last name, "What happened happened, that's all."

"It's not just suddenly _over_ now Lily, it was real, if you could just stop avoiding me and it!"

"I have bigger things to deal with than your dramatics," Lily said fiercely, not meeting his gaze, her bottom lip perceptively shaking.

"_Look. At. Me._"

Lily whipped her head around at breakneck speed and found her face directly in front of James'. Her pulse increased, and her breaths became shallow as she watched his gaze drop from her eyes down to her raw lips.

"I want to talk to you."

"James," Lily said, visibly deflating and turning around from him, "I need to take a break from boys like you. I still don't know what happened with Sirius –"

Almost magically, Sirius bounded up the steps loudly, Peter trailing behind him, the two boys loudly yelling and laughing. Lily immediately tensed, and redness began to spread up James' neck.

"Lilyflower! My best friend's favourite redhead!" Sirius said laughingly, strolling over to where James and Lily stared up at him, both with equal measures of confusion and anger, "How are you doing?"

"Why was she in your bed last night, Sirius?" James snarled, suddenly possessive and enraged, Lily's eyes widening with the need to know the answer to the question.

Sirius suddenly looked pinned, and visibly gulped.

"Uhh, well, Prongs, we were just having a Sirius tea party!" Sirius said, laughter fading out of his voice as neither James nor Lily laughed at his bad joke, "Erm, what?"

"They asked why Lily was in your bed, Padfoot," Peter said nervously, inching up from behind Sirius to loudly whisper into his ear.

"I heard you, Wormtail," Sirius snapped back, Peter looking ashamedly at the carpet.

"Well, what's the answer?" Lily said, nervously laughing, "I mean, it's not like we shagged or anything!"

The hallway was suddenly filled with tense silence, the type that was thick as butter.

"Padfoot?" James snarled again, protectively moving towards Lily, who sat, shocked, at Sirius' blank face, "What's the answer?"

Sirius stuttered for a second, the only time that Lily had ever seen him somewhat unnerved.

"Well, erm, uhh …what's your definition of shagging?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A COLLECTION OF LILY AND JAMES  
Author: Queen Nightingale  
Rating: M**

* * *

If she could have flown, she wouldn't have done it.

If she had been standing at the edge of a thirteen floor building, with wings strapped onto her back and a cushioning charm placed around the building, she still wouldn't have done it.

First she would have checked the tape on her wings, sealed them magically, double-checked, then triple-checked, then quadruple-checked. She would have gritted her teeth and clicked her tongue, her toes curling around the edge of the building, and then she would have looked down.

Her stomach would have jumped into her throat, and she would have muffled a bit of a scream, and she would have fought the instinct to leap back and throw herself towards safety. She would have cautiously removed her toes, stuck her arms out, and carefully walked, seemingly calmly, away from the edge.

"I've decided against it."

Her decision would have been planned, carefully reasoned out in her head, all the bullets of thought lined out like a list in her plane of consciousness. She would stand there, maybe bite her lip, and then grin.

"I'm too chicken, whatever."

She then would have undone the tape connecting her to her wings, stripped them off and carefully discarded the white feathers into a bundle at her feet, walking away from them as if walking away from a dream, or a fate, or a wish. Because she wasn't scared to walk away when she was frightened, she wasn't afraid to be down-to-earth or blunt. And that was what saved her from humiliation – she wouldn't be scared to admit that she was fearful. She would just be plain out too scared to jump.

And she would then watch the other students, soaring off the tower, and inside her stomach would clench because she _wanted_ to jump, she truly wanted to let go and just soar and fly but things like that didn't happen to girls like her.

So she would sit at the bottom of the building, after carefully walking down thirteen flights of stairs, to sit at the bottom with the other girls who were scared of heights. She despised them, but she would sit with them and talk to them and pretend for a second like she was okay with being part of their group because that was what she did.

She wouldn't fly, because she couldn't let go.

* * *

He was different.

He would always soar, would always relish the chance to spread his wings and show off, a pinprick of white sailing through the perfect blue sky, that perfect beautiful boy with the thick hair and round glasses, the one with the big smile that everyone adored.

He was a Gryffindor, and so he used it to his advantage.

He would stand at the edge of the thirteen-floor building and look down and feel a thrill of confidence and excitement and passion rush from the tips of his toes up to his head. And he would check his wings once, just once, before letting a loud laugh rip from his stomach. Then he would toss himself off of the tower, the rest of the class letting out a perfectly synchronized gasp, and he would turn aflame, coasting down on his wings like he was born to fly, like he was born to chase after the sun.

He would revel in the feeling of the wind in his hair, the feeling of power and passion and grandiosity, the feeling that _nothing_ could catch him, that _nothing_ could bring him down because he was invincible, and in those moments he was infinite.

He would fully believe, in those moments, that he was eternal. That life was just a ribbon that he could dart around, that he, out of everyone, could taste death and spit it out, spit it on all of their faces because he was _James Potter_ and he was born to soar.

He didn't calculate, he didn't premeditate, he didn't ever _think_ before he acted – he just flung himself full-heartedly into whatever he loved, into whatever he was passionate about. He wouldn't care about ripping a couple of feathers, breaking a couple arms or legs or even hearts. He wouldn't care about anything except those few, perfect moments when he felt truly alive because he was chasing life and winning, _beating_ it and showing the _world _that _nothing could bring him down_.

So he would soar, higher and higher and faster and faster than anyone else in the class because he was James Potter and that was what he did. It was expected of him to fling himself off the building with all the grandiosity of a marching band, it was expected of him to chase after death and love the thrill – and since he was simple, he did. He would love it, he would love it so much that he would fling himself into things in his life, in his everyday life, and he would shove his whole heart into all of his actions because he wanted to live like no boy before him ever dared to.

So he would fly.

* * *

He remembers that one night, that one stupid night, with her in that weird polka-dotted bra and huge see-through t-shirt, standing outside of his dormitory. And everyone had been asleep, even Remus (who normally stayed up until 2 o'clock doing schoolwork).

And he remembers looking at her, with her frizzy red hair exploding around her head like some sort of strange devil-angel combination, with her enchanting hypnotizing delirious-making green eyes staring agog at his face.

And he couldn't help it because goddammit Beth was _nothing_ compared to this girl and yes he knew that he was breaking her heart but there was _Lily_ standing in front of him and he just couldn't turn her down.

Because since first year he had desperately wanted the taste of her negligee, the touch of her breath, the smell of her persimmon lips, the glance of her lilac scent – he wanted it all, and he wanted it exploding around him.

He had wanted, more than anything in the world, to have _Lily_ moaning in his sweaty bed sheets underneath him. He had wanted to feel her writhing against him and he had wanted to feel her small hands clasping at his shirt, ripping it off. He had wanted to hear her moans and see her pores up close and rip off her skin, rip and rip and rip and tear it off until he got behind her hollow eyes and skinny frame.

He wanted to bury himself inside of her, make her bleed.

He wanted to rip her head off, rip off all her beauty and wide eyes and red hair and just show her skeleton to the world, he wanted to take her bones and wrap them around his bedpost and burn and burn and burn her skin off so that she would be his, his forever.

But right then, Beth had come into the room, and he forced himself to stop.

* * *

She wanted to corrupt him.

She hated him, goddamit, truly hated this invincible perfect boy who emulated everything that was wrong with the world. Because beautiful boys weren't supposed to also be _smart_ and _athletic_ and also be allowed to be attractive; that had to be defying some laws of transfiguration out there.

She had come to his room because she … didn't know why, and she didn't really care, because she could just hear her feet making soft noises and padding towards his room and she didn't even say anything when she opened the door because she knew that he would know why she was there.

And it was _wrong_.

She was _the other woman_.

But she couldn't bring herself to care, because her breath hitched at the sight of his bare chest and toned muscles, and her breath hitched at the sight of his hair, all mussed up and breathtaking, and her breath hitched at the sight of his eyes, wide and open and burning for her, burning so hard that she felt singed just standing near him, aflame just standing close to him.

And then he kissed her, grabbed her and kissed her hard, fierce, lustfully – not pleasant or soft and she moaned and her breath stopped being hitched.

And she just wanted him for _herself_, but life didn't always work out that way, so she knew that if this would ever continue aside from this one night, she'd have to get him to break up with his stupid phony girlfriend, who was so perfect and popular that she wanted to tear her head off.

But she wanted _him_ to tear her skin off, rip it off and tug and tug and tug and wrap it around him like a cloak so that she could finally step off the goddamn building and fly beside him. She wanted him to expose her to the world, parade her around like a bird in a cage and then open the door, so that she could finally fly, fly, fly.

She had wanted a hard romance and burning desire, nothing but passion and lust, no love. She had wanted a one-night stand with no lingering connections. She had wanted him to use her for her body, and she had wanted to use him for his temperament, so she could finally not care that her hair was frizzy and that she was too skinny, that her legs were slightly bowed and that her nose was crooked. She wanted his fingers to burn down her back, to carve mountains into her spine so that she wouldn't forget this one night, wouldn't forget what it was like to do something _inappropriate_ and _wrong_ and _sinful_.

She had wanted that, but then Beth had walked into the room.

* * *

"What is _my_ definition of shagging?" James replied dangerously, his eyes narrowing at Sirius, who looked uncomfortable and started tugging on the collar of his shirt, "What is _my_ definition of shagging?"

"Yes."

"Shagging means _sleeping together_, Padfoot."

"Well … we didn't actually shag," Sirius said, Lily letting a huge gush of air exhale from her mouth, James' tense shoulders dropping, "But I'm not sure how to define what else we did."

"I'm still pure!" Lily said, jokingly, turning to James, whose expression darkened slightly.

"What else did you do?" James asked, Lily quieting down and staring at Sirius, Peter hiding behind the taller boy.

"Well, uh," Sirius said slowly, James glaring menacingly up at him.

"Spit it out, Padfoot."

"Well, now that that first question is answered – how would you define a kiss?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author: **Queen Nightingale

**Rating: **M

**Comment(s)**: This reminds me so much of my life it is frightening. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

"Fucking hell, Padfoot!"

Lily's hand jumped to her mouth, holding in a scream, as James suddenly lunged on Sirius.

"Get the" – punch – "Merlin's BALLS!" – eye stab – "FUCK OFF, PRONGS!"

"James, what the hell are you doing," Lily screamed, trying to pull him off Sirius, "You're overreacting! For fuck's sake!"

"I'm not overreacting!" James roared, pinning Sirius to the ground, "What the fuck happened!"

"Why do you even care, James?"

James froze mid-punch, Sirius holding his hands up to protect his face, turning to face a reddened Lily whose hands were in his cardigan, trying to yank him off of Sirius.

"What did you say?"

"Why do you care?" Lily replied hotly, her courage boiling up in blushing welts across her face, "I mean, you haven't even fucking talked to me for a goddamn month, why do you give a shit now?"

"I thought you didn't want to have this conversation!"

"I thought you weren't a _complete _prick!"

James exhaled heavily from his nostrils, his eyes wide and enraged, turning his head towards Sirius and pinning him down with his arms, the veins on his muscular arm tense and strained from the effort.

"You better fucking explain this, Sirius."

Sirius squeaked, his voice constricted by the pressure on his voice box.

"Well fine," he wheezed out, "But I don't know if Lily's going to be happy about it."

* * *

Lily stumbled out of her chair in the Gryffindor common room, too tipsy to see straight, with a wide I-don't-give-a-fuck grin plastered on her face.

"Oh come on Lilllzzz," Marlene slurred, her eyes heavy-lidded, "We're not done playing yet!"

"Yup. Yup."

"Noooo, we're not!" Marlene replied, frowning and shaking her mass of black curls from her spot sprawled out by the couch, "We're not done!"

Lily started giggling for no apparent reason, snorting and laughing into the palm of her hand as the party raged on around them.

"We can't let them see me like this!" she suddenly proclaimed, a bright light appearing behind her incredibly intoxicated eyes, "They'll never understand!"

"Whuddid you say there, Lils," Marlene drawled, her head lolling on the back of the couch.

"The Maur-AUDERS!" Lily suddenly screamed, a Gryffindor sixth year eyeing her up from behind his red cup of firewhiskey and orange juice.

"Hey girls, how you doin ..."

"SIRIUS BLACK!" Lily shrieked, nearly toppling off her feet and onto Marlene, a shocked Sirius grabbing her in time, "HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU?" She lunged at him and started hugging his waist fiercely, "You're my favourite have I ever mentioned that wow I LOVE YOU."

"I LOVE YOU TOO SIRIUS!" Marlene yelled into Sirius' ear, clambering up to paste her body to his, Sirius' face going red with the effort of holding two drunk girls up, "YOU'RE SUCH A FUCKING TEASE, THOUGH, ALL THE GIRLS WANT YOU."

"Shhh, Marly. We can't fffucking tell him that, it'll go to his head," Lily stage-whispered into Marlene's ear, the other girl's eyes widening with understanding.

"You're right! SIRIUS!"

"Yes, Marlene?" Sirius replied, a smirk plastered on his devil-may-care face.

"You're not attractive in your head," she said, smiling at him, then stumbling away from the two of them towards the entrance to the Gryffindor Commons.

"MARLEEEEEENEEEEEE!" Lily wailed, holding onto Sirius and looking up at him plaintively, "Sirius you've got to help her she's not in her right state of mind! What if a hippogriff goes and eats her?"

Sirius laughed.

"Hippogriffs don't eat people, Lily."

"But they eat flowers! And I'm a motherfucking Lily, so there's something to worry about here!"

Sirius ignored her, holding her up and scanning the room. Suddenly he yanked Lily over to the beer pong table, where an incredibly intoxicated James Potter was losing his eleventh game, shoving her into his shoulder.

"James, mate, hold onto Lily while I go after Marlene. Fucking women and their alcohol tolerance."

James grinned widely at her, throwing his ping pong ball randomly across the table and hitting his opponent, Kieran Fletchley in the head, the other boy uttering a swear word and glaring at James.

"LILY FLOWER!"

"Potter, I hate you," Lily said, trying to glare in her intoxicated state at his face, and failing stupendously, "You're always so mean to me."

"You're a princessssss," James slurred, looking at her with wide eyes, clutching her stiff body to his chest and hugging her like she was a rag doll.

"Lemmeeego!"

"You're like a muggle princesssssssss. A real-life princessssss."

"I'M A LILY. IMMA FLOWER. A BIG, BADASS MERLIN BALL SUCKING FLOWER," Lily wailed into his chest, "I'm not a prinnn-prin-princess!"

"I'll drink to a flower," James said dreamily, promptly dropping Lily, who stumbled back from him into the wall, as he turned and gulped down another alcoholic drink.

"Yyyyour momma wouldn't like you so much if she knew you draaaank," Lily said, giggling to herself from her position clinging to the wall, eyeing up James as he attempted to suavely sit on the beer pong table.

"Your momma likes my ass."

"DOESNTTTTTAT ALL, DOESNT DOES NOT! TAKE IT BACK! TAKE IT BACK!"

"DOES TOO!"

"DOES NOT!"

Suddenly she was pressed in between his hands, James leaning his forehead on hers as he supported himself against the wall.

A sober part of her brain smelled firewhiskey on his breath, but she was pretty sure she had it on hers, so she didn't care. That was the fun with drinking, after all.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, practically hanging off of his frame, James breathing heavy onto her face, Lily giggling the whole time.

"I wannn you to kiss me," she said breathlessly, her wide eyes gazing up into his golden hazel.

"I wanna kiss you too, princessss," James slurred, "But you'll hate me for it in the mornnn."

"Da mornnn," Lily repeated, giggling.

"Da mornnn," James said, smiling at her laughter.

"Do you wanna kiss a princessss?"

"I've wanted to kiss a princess my whole life," James said, a touch of soberness creeping into his voice, "But I think I'm the villain and that's not how the story goes."

Lily's eyes widened.

"Woahhh, you're fucking deep. Like an icicle at the bottom of a swimminggg pool."

"I like icicles," James said, his slur back on and a sloppy grin on his face.

"Me too. I like sucking them."

James froze, looking down at Lily, who was smiling innocently up at him.

"Vhaaaat? I do!"

"I wanna kiss a princess," James pouted, shaking himself out of it and launching himself at her face, starting to kiss her cheek and then move down to her neck.

Lily kept laughing and giggling as he moved all the way down to her collarbone, sucking and nibbling in the way that only experience provides.

That's when Sirius found them in the centre of the party, Lily's hands in James' hair, James' lips on Lily's collarbone, right behind the beer pong table.

* * *

"... and then James passed out on the pong table after I moved him off of you," Sirius continued, sitting up and pointing exaggeratedly at Lily, whose mouth was agog, "And you refused to let your 'villain', I quote, go to his room by yourself, so I levitated both of your drunk asses to this room and let the 'princess' sleep on my bed, although I do recall James waking up and crawling in with you, but I separated the two of you again since I figured you'd be less than pleased waking up beside him with a hangover. Which surprisingly enough, neither of you two seem to have. So you didn't kiss me, he kissed you."

James snorted, Lily turning to glare at him.

"How do you know we said all that stuff before, then?" he asked, cocky as ever, extending a hand to help Sirius back on his feet.

"Fletchley heard it all. You two conveniently forgot that James was in the middle of a drinking game."

Lily dropped her head into her hands with an embarrassed groan.

"Fuck, what happened to Marlene?" she said from behind her hands, blushing furiously.

"Well, she attempted to abduct a house elf from the kitchens so that she could have a partner to 'stargaze' with, but that didn't seem to go over too well with them. I think she might want to avoid the kitchens for a while after this. Hell, that girl also did not want to go to sleep. She has a mad painful right hook."

Lily started laughing, looking up at Sirius with glee in her eyes.

"Abduct a house elf?"

"She's classy, that one," Sirius deadpanned.

An awkward pause was left in the room, as Lily stopped giggling and started fidgeting, both boys eyeing her up nervously.

"Well," Sirius said awkwardly, "I'd best be going. I've got to ... um ... go to the library."

James snorted again, "Really? Do you even know where that is?"

Sirius sneered back at him.

"Yes. Kind of. Who gives a shit. Anyways, I'm outta here, see you two later."

"Thanks for everything last night, Sirius, I'm sure Marlene really appreciates it. Also thanks for the bed."

"Anytime, Lily," Sirius replied, giving her a mock salute, then exiting quickly.

Lily and James stood in the bedroom awkwardly for a couple of seconds, both of them avoiding eye contact with the other.

"Well," James drawled, breaking the silence, "At least I have a new nickname for you, Princess."

Lily laughed, relieved that they were talking.

"I actually don't mind that one, Villain."

They both grinned at each other amicably, the night's events forging an unconscious bond between them.

"So, Princess ..."

"Yes, Villain?"

"I've heard that there's this crazy sort of muggle fairytale," James said, stepping up closer to her, Lily standing her ground firmly, "I think it's called Beauty and the Beast, actually."

Lily nodded her head contemplatively.

"I think I've heard of it."

"Well what with your literary knowledge, I was hoping that you would."

Lily grinned.

"Continue," she motioned, James leaning against the bedpost beside her.

"Well," he said thoughtfully, pretending to look up at the ceiling, "I heard that in the story, there's this really cocky guy, see, and he gets this spell cast on him by a witch."

"Ahh," Lily said, nodding, "Accurate."

"And he's a pretty bad guy, not nice or anything, so she turns him into a beast. For his outside to match his inside, see."

"Mhmm."

"And he's the villain of the story. And there's this marvellous princess, who reads a lot, and goes by the name of Belle."

"Right ... I see ..."

"Long story short, she's caught by him because of some roses in his garden, and she has to stay with him to save her father, and she's stuck in this large dingy old castle with this beast. But then she gets to know him." James eyes take on a twinkle, "And she finds out that he's not so bad."

"Fancy that!"

"So by the end of the story, the princess actually falls in love with the villain!"

"Wow," Lily's eyes opened with fake shock, "What a story!"

"So theoretically ..."

"Working in a theoretically universe, of course," Lily said seriously, nodding her head for him to continue.

"There's this guy at Hogwarts that I know, and I think he's a pretty bad guy."

Lily looked at James carefully.

"He's fucked up a lot of things in his life, he swears too much, he drinks too much, practically has all the vices in the book. But he knows this girl, see – and she's a real princess. Not a fairytale one – no, she drinks too much too, and she swears too much, and she has this real annoying tendency of arguing with me – him."

Lily arched an eyebrow at James, who smirked at her.

"I think you know her actually. She's a friend of yours. So I was wondering – theoretically, of course – if you could ask her on behalf of my guy friend, if she'd consider dating him."

Lily grinned at James.

"Well, I don't know, that takes a lot of consideration on the girl's part," she replied, her eyes widening.

James' brow dropped into a sad look.

"But I mean," she quickly corrected herself, "Speaking purely from an outsider's perspective, I'm pretty sure she'd love to go out with him to Hogsmeade this weekend for a couple of butter beers."

"I'd be so pleased to pass on that information," James beamed back at her, "So should he meet her at the gates at noon?"

"I'm pretty sure she won't be up by that time," Lily replied, blushing, "How about he meet her at one?"

"Done."

Lily grinned and nodded to him, "She'll see him there, then."

James grinned back at her, his eyes captivatingly swirling with gold.

She left the room, her feet carrying her out as quickly as possible, and made her way back to her room, where she collapsed on her bed, waking up Marlene, who groaned and sat up in her bed, her eyes puffy and her hair askew.

"What the fuck happened last night?" Marlene moaned, eyeing up Lily, who was sitting on her bed, smiling madly at Marlene, who just got more and more confused, "Why do I remember a house elf? And the Astronomy Tower? And Sirius?"

Lily just sat and grinned at her, her smile bubbling over with glee.

"And why the fuck do you look like a rainbow!"


End file.
